


Blood Brothers

by saidno1ever



Series: You're Sick, I Hate You and Love You For It [10]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Humantale, Cigarettes, Gen, Mental Instability, Paper Cuts, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saidno1ever/pseuds/saidno1ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The skin parted like petals on blossoming flowers. We pressed the cuts together, became one another</p><p>(Papyrus reads Sans a bedtime story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Brothers

The back shelves reek of ash and burning hair, caused by the dense smoke that pollutes the space above your heads. Knowing that they weren't alone, the librarians would have put out their cigarettes or at the very least taken them outside. But they don't know. 

You and Papyrus had crouched quietly in the snow until the last visitor had left, waiting for the librarians to fetch a pack of cigarettes from the back room, before crawling past the desk. Only two out of the four of them smoked, so it was two from one pack. You wish you knew how they lit them, none of them ever seemed to have a lighter or matches. 

Papyrus keeps his scarf wrapped tightly around his face, trying to save his lungs despite what Gramps has already put them through. Last time you were here, he had frowned at the librarians and told them that smoking was dangerous. Now he can only disapprove from a distance. 

You run your finger silently along the dusty spines of the books, drawing a thin straight line until you stop at a leathery black one. You ease the book out with your blunted nail, watching dust peel off in sheets like snowflakes. It stamps dust to your fingers then the front of your shirt when you sit beside your brother, clasping it in your lap. 

Papyrus squints at the title, so you hold up for him. 

"...Blood Sorcery Bible Volume 1? Rituals in Nero- Necromancy? What's that about?" 

You shrug and pass it to him, "Read it to me." 

Your brother skims through the first few pages of dedication and direction before mentally reading through the first page. You watch his brows scrunch together in confusion, while his mouth twists into a tiny frown. 

"Sans... I don't know what this book is about." 

He looks you in the eyes, then after a second swallows, "Fine." 

Papyrus flips to a random page titled Blood For Magnets, "I think this is a poem," He clears his throat softly as you nestle in next to him, "What can I do, but love? I began to worship you and a horizon unveiled the irony, as if I worship you and you are in me, then my ego is fed-" 

One of the librarians roars with laughter, Papyrus waits for the laughter to die into loud heaving coughs before continuing. 

"What if I loathe you? Degrade you? Yet find that I crave you. I am bound to you..." As Papyrus reads his tone shifts from confusion to curiosity to complete enthrallment. The words whispered from his lips sound like the spinning twine of a romance and you can't help but smile when he finishes the page with a content sigh. 

"So what was it about?" You whisper. 

Papyrus shifts down so he's lying against the wall with his head propped up uncomfortably. His scarf stretches tightly across his face, but he is unfazed. 

"Love." 

You reach for the book, pinching the part of the page closest to the seam and gently tear it down. The page separates from the book sloppily, like a nail separating from a finger. Papyrus slowly closes the cover. 

"You wanna do it?" 

"Do what?" 

You wave the page a little, "Make a magnet for blood." 

"...How would we do that?" 

You sit up, prompting your brother to sit up as well, "Gimme your hand." 

He places his small hand in yours, automatically palm up. You're careful when you reach to pull his glove down his wrist all the way, until it hangs from the tips of his fingers. You ease the edge of the page down onto the soft skin of his palm, holding it there for a beat. 

"What are you doing?" 

You rip the page across his skin, leaving a temporary line. Papyrus jolts, "Ow! What are you doing, Sans?" 

It takes six tries for the page to make a cut deep enough to bleed. Papyrus is looking around nervously, in case one of the librarians decides to venture to your hiding place. You place his hand palm up on his knee before moving the stained paper to your own hand. It cuts on the second try. 

Blood blooms from both of your palms, drizzling down your arms in messy rivulets of red. You bring your bleeding hand to Papyrus' and press the cuts together, carefully at first then with force. You feel his blood filling your cut, taking up the lost space of your flesh and settling comfortably in your veins. 

Papyrus is watching your blood run down his arm. 

You're smiling as you whisper shakily, "Now we're bound forever."


End file.
